The Boy-Who-Lived and The Witch-Who-Saved-Him
by KrisTerms
Summary: Harry's life changes dramatically when an American witch crosses paths with him at the tender age of five. This story explores what Harry's life would have been like had he grown up with someone who loved him and cared about him. Rating may change.


Full Summary/Intro Chapter:

What if Harry Potter had been exposed to magic from a much younger age? What if he were taken in by a community and nurtured and supported rather than shunned and condemned? This story takes on Harry Potter's life and changes his experiences, giving him a Fairy God Mother of sorts, an American witch who is driven, spiritual, and more magical than Dumbledore would ever be able to understand, with nothing stopping her from living her life as fully as possible, and helping Harry do the same. When you're tasked with great things, you can still be blessed with great support, and magical things happen when people work together.

A slight note to avoid confusion: I'm taking liberties with the magical community. While I'll do my best to explain the cultural differences and expand in that way, Harry's mentor, Babs (the American Fairy God Mother), was raised in America where they cherish youth and treat magic as something of a religion. Explorers at heart, their perspective on magic and community and connection is much different than the traditional experience that Magical and Muggle British children have.

Chapter One

A Fairy God Mother & A Magical Little Boy

Harry Potter was constantly full of whatever was around him. It started at a very young age, after he gained the ability to move himself around more and crawl or walk… too early to hope to remember a specific moment with clarity and detail. In fact, it was really nothing more than pure emotion with crawling and his _slide_. He knew, from the two toddler memories he had with vivid detail and clarity, the first time he could remember doing his "slide" was as soon as his mother turned away for one second, before immediately looking back to find the space where he had been empty. He had "slid" back in just out of her sight behind her and laughed. And then his mother had laughed with relief and wonder and picked him up and kissed his baby cheeks. At least, that's how Harry remembered his first time sliding.

Maybe that was the thing that drove him the most. Relief and connection and love. Moments of joy. He was endlessly curious and had a habit of pulling on branches until he heard it start to crack- but he quickly got better at understanding that tension in the tree's veins. At five he had somehow developed a sort of relationship with the trees he spent a lot of time in reading and would deeply meditate in them on hot summer nights. He didn't know it to be meditation then, he was just spending time with the trees and would sway peacefully with them and talk to their bark, non-stop.

He had no limits at home. In fact, pretty much the only rule was, no one wanted to talk about anything related to Harry. He was encouraged to spend as little time in the home as possible, and showing affection or being polite was only something that would happen outside of the house, so as to not make any of his many admirers in the neighborhood uncomfortable. His Aunt and Uncle gave up on trying to tie him down when he used his slide so effectively to go wherever he wanted.

And Harry, well, recently he'd overheard "an absolute DELIGHT!", "that handsome young man is sure to be Britain's next national treasure," and, "If I'm not mistaken, I'd say he were one of those natural savants. Perfect recall, but still just a fun kid to talk to." Over the years he had grown in the hearts of many of the women in his life, who often stumbled upon him during one of his many Prison Breaks as a four year old and quickly gave in to his natural charm and back-and-forth of admiring attention. But that would make sense if he was full of whatever he was surrounded by. If he were tethered to the genuine connections he made with the entities around him, why wouldn't he be nice and try to make someone smile?

And, of course it worked. While being a force of chaos, he had lived his life very intentionally. His mother did that, and when he found that out about her, it clicked deep inside himself.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here and maybe now is a good time to rewind. Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived? Perhaps you know him through his family name, Potter, one of the few active Most Ancient and Most Noble Houses in Britain? A House that originated from the third brother of the Peverel Brothers? The Peverel's were known for their relationships with death, but the third Peverel, and the first Potter, knew how to live happily and escape death, walking proudly to it at the end of a long life. Magical things like that also tend to be magical indeed, and it would seem that every third Potter Male heir had a penchant for evading death, and a natural thirst to live life profoundly and intentioned.

It sucked for his dad that he hadn't been a third heir, but Harry was grateful for this blessing. That meant, he never acted until he could figure out a plausible way to not die while he was doing something dangerous or new. And even that seemed to evolve over time as he naturally got better at thinking that way. But then again, he probably had Babs to thank for that, his Fairy God Mother.

That was the first time that he felt like maybe his life was truly magical, in a good way. That he was just destined to have big movie moments with people. Honestly, the more he was encouraged, the quicker he tended to pick up on things, and after meeting Babs, his life was full of encouragement again. Meeting her was one of his favorite memories.

He was up in someone's tree, quite high, too. That someone was Barbara "Babs" Smith, the young American woman who had inherited her uncle's many properties and chose Privet Drive of all of them to live on. And Babs had a bad habit for immediately melting into a fun child and playing with whoever was in front of her, just as Harry did. Fortunately and Unfortunately, her personality made her stand out to the town and she was often seen as being the very emotional, "deep conversationalist" American who was sometimes spurned for her natural habit of drawing people in. At least, that was how she explained it to Harry once when they were talking about perceptions and how they can differ and change the way someone reacts to you.

Harry smiled widely to himself and pulled himself up the pine tree until his arms wrapped comfortably around it, swaying with the tree in the wind. He breathed deeply, smelling the pine and the sap and let himself sway with the tree. It was such a soothing moment for him, as the tree rocked him in an embracing motion that kept them anchored in the push of the wind and the fear of gravity. He would care for the tree, too. It started with whispering to them and learning about their branches and needles and cones. Then he would learn about the bark and the roots and how some trees were even tied into a circle of support for one another in case one tree needed extra water or nutrients one winter, and he would care for them as they cared for each other. Once he learned about nutrients and gardening and herbology, he was really able to give back to the trees and they thrived like they were a part of a fantastic forest, growing brilliantly under his attention.

The trees on Privet Drive were not as common as to consider it to be a town in a forest. There were only two yards that had a handful of trees, and one of them happened to be Babs'.

Babs happened to be 23 when the 5 year old Harry Potter had climbed up one of her trees. She had been feeling peculiarly well, as if her sense of change were ringing and making life just a little more vivid and exciting on that day. With no family left and nothing stopping her from living very well in England, she had said goodbye to her friends and moved to Privet Drive. She wanted to challenge herself in new ways to grow as much as possible and just have a fun, fulfilling life.

Queue the little scar head.

She had mushed.

She had gushed.

Her excitement nearly blew the house down.

"What's up, little man? You having fun up there?" she asked him, walking over and looking at him before looking around curiously for anyone he might be with.

Harry slid into the space just behind her. He felt her still completely before realizing he hadn't fallen and staring at him in shock. He grinned and laughed, bending at his side while looking up at her with puppy eyes. "But you were-" she said, before pointing up and looking at the branch he had been perched on. Needing no further prompting, Harry slid into the space directly diagonal to where he was near her side. "And-" her face lit up in amazement. Her mouth opened and shut several times but she refused to move her gaze from the kid. "You're good." She grinned at him and he felt a thrill go down his spine that made him laugh in excitement. She quickly grabbed him from the floor, still gentle through the shocking action and smiled affectionately at him, throwing him up in the air and catching him gently and spinning to the floor. "And fun!"

He laughed at her, hardly being able to catch his breath. She was different from anyone he had ever met before, but he liked it. He liked her. "Again!" he requested.

"You gotta ask nicely," she teased, bending down and ruffling his hair.

"Please!" he answered, figuring it out.

She paused, her hand freezing in his bangs as she saw the lightning bolt scar on his forehead. She was in England. One of the few English wizards she was remotely familiar with was Harry Potter, right up there with Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort. To be honest, she wasn't even sure how the magical law enforcement worked here. Harry's excited "Please!" rang her back into the moment as she blinked and laughed, ruffling his hair again and throwing him up in the air again, quite a bit higher this time.

"Do you want to be friends?" she asked him while they caught their breath.

Harry had nodded shyly and she smiled kindly at him, offering him her hand. "I'm Babs. That's short for Barbara Smith. And I want to be your Fairy God Mother!"

Harry took her hand and kept smiling. "Harry," he introduced, shaking her hand softly.

"Well, Harry, I have no clue how you ended up my tree, but is anyone looking for you right now, babe?" He shook his head and she frowned. "No one is watching you?" He shrugged, looking around her face now that he was so close to her. Her eyebrows knit together a little. "Why don't you want to be home, hun?"

Harry's hand went to his hair and he ran his hand through it, looking down the street at his house. "I don't like being home. My aunt and uncle don't like me and my cousin's a right prat. He hits me." He looked at her then and smiled proudly. "But he can't catch up with me much at all."

The wind blew and Harry and Babs smiled at each other. "I think things are going to start being a little bit more fun for you and me, kiddo. Did you even know you're magic?" His eyes were wide before he smiled. "As your new Fairy God Mother, I'm going to take care of you and show you everything, Harry."

"You promise?" he asked her shyly. He wanted to not be alone. He wanted to not be lonely. And he liked Babs, a lot. Whatever Fairy God Mother's were, he wanted it.

She smiled at him then and for Harry, it was the start of an amazing adventure. For Babs, her life suddenly had deep purpose. I was a perfect union of lost souls.

The air was warming around Harry and as he opened his eyes, he saw the sky lighting above him. Far off in the distance he saw an owl and knew it was for him. Patiently, he waited for it to arrive, continuing to consider his life up to that point.

It didn't take long at all after meeting Babs before Harry was spending practically every moment at Babs' house. She had somehow known the Dursley's were awful (imagine that) and took a look at the wards in place around his house before tying his relatives to their chairs and told them it was illegal to treat a child in such a manner and that they were lucky she didn't curse them further than luck already had. She hadn't invaded Harry's mind, but she had no reason not to use legilimency on the two adults "caring" for him. And she was disgusted.

She had no idea how such a famous little boy was being kept in such a place, but if anyone cared they would have changed his circumstance before then. She just didn't understand how people could care so little for a child simply because he was magical, but such was life. In America, that was a very real reality, one that the witch trials in Salem had reminded them of. There were underground societies of muggles who were witch hunters there, muggles who had evaded magicals. There was minor concern that they were going to catch up to more magicals now that technology was advancing so quickly, but what could you do?

It wasn't like Harry's story was all that strange, anyway. You were practically expected to come across two or three muggle born witches and wizards in a lifetime, and if you had a heart, you were expected to take them under your wing. At least, that's how things were done in America, but such cultural norms were different internationally. And Harry thought himself terribly lucky to have been put in her path.

And so they lived. Babs and Harry would talk constantly. About everything. Harry would ask what something was, or why something happened, or if something existed, and Babs would answer. Sometimes she didn't know the answer and she would find the answer somewhere else, like the library or internet or call some place. Other times, it would be an open ended question that would spark conversation rather than a standard simple answer. Those were Harry's favorite questions to ask. They also happened to be Babs' favorite to answer.

And finally, there were the inspiring questions. Sometimes Harry would ask a question and Babs would light up like a sparkler, her short hair springing to life, the mahogany brown shimmering from their roots. "There's only one way to answer that question," she would say, looking ironically dramatically wicked, eyes wide before throwing back her head and cackling. "Away we go!" she would shout, grabbing Harry's hand and twisting them on the spot, disapparating from wherever to a park, or a museum, or _someplace_.

They were a pretty fantastic duo. Babs loved adventuring and often felt like the teacher from the magic school bus when it came to showing Harry something interesting or new. And he felt safe with her, which made exploring much more relaxed while still being fun. Afterall, everything was fun when Babs was involved.

The owl was growing closer now, and was no so far off in the distance. Soon it had arrived. "Thanks, buddy," he greeted, patting it's head. He took the letter, addressed to:

_Harry James Potter_

_ The Highest Sitting Branch_

_ The Largest Pine Tree_

_ Little Whinging_

_ Surrey_

He smiled at it and thought about getting it framed. He slid from the branch to the porch and opened the front door. "It's here, Babs. My Hogwarts letter!" he called.

Babs was smiling at him. She took her wand out and flicked it at the paper. It glowed and she pursed her lips in a frown. "I think we'll be joined very shortly, Harry," she told him.

Harry breathed in deeply. He always got a little nervous going into a new situation, but mostly he was excited. He wasn't sure who was going to come, though. It wasn't a quiet secret that Harry had gone missing nearly a year after he had found Babs.

"Are you ready," she asked him.

Harry's hand wrapped around the time turner in his pocket. He knew the drill. He nodded and moved to her, standing behind her just as they heard a pop at the door.

There was a knock. Right there on the front porch was Albus Dumbledore. "Hello," Babs greeted. She had gone through extreme lengths to get Harry signed over to her permanent care in America, covering his scar with make up and calling him Harry Dursley to any who asked, before she and Harry signed adoption contracts in blood and it was made clear he was Harry Potter. She had apparated away, apologizing for being deceitful, but had successfully evaded capture from there on.

It's not like it was hard, they were magical and had the entire world at their disposal with Harry's unique ability to slide. Unlike apparition, it wasn't magically taxing depending on distance, which made international travel simple. So simple, in fact, that he had successfully started having friends within the wizarding world. While Babs had very few ties in the magical world now, (after having tragically lost all of her closest friends and family) she and Harry had researched magical Britain extensively. Upon realizing just how important the Potters were on what was considered to be one of the leading countries in the magical world, she started laying down roots with him, using her own small fortune and Harry's as well to buy out the Daily Prophet. Harry successfully sued the company publishing books about him and gave an interview with a reporter of the Prophet, Johnny Corner, a new writer from a muggle family with a younger brother Harry's age who was also magical. He gave them a picture that had been taken of him on Christmas when Babs bought him the finest traditional wizarding robes, decorated with the Potter crest and colors. He was seven and said he was left with relatives who didn't treat him well, but that his adoptive guardian, Barbara Smith, who admitted the muggles he had been left with were anti magic, refused to leave him there- that it would have been illegal in America for her to have noticed a magical child in the care of muggles and done nothing.

It served a two-fold purpose. Babs looked incredibly innocent while explaining American Traditions and legalities. Since everything ultimately went through to the ICW, it did not matter where someone was registered and to whom. Mostly, it was welcome that you register someone legally when it happened because it was such an informal thing for so long. If something is agreeably righteous as per the ICW's standards, that was accepted and understood universally. Because it was 100% in the right to agree to take care of Harry by any standard, Babs was in the clear to her claim to Harry. Dumbledore, who's decision it had been to put Harry with people who were 100% abusive and disgusted with magic, (something made clear and sworn in blood and magic by Babs herself, who had given memory proof of her findings, and who had moved forward to preform the adoption ritual for magical apprenti on Harry which required good will and pure intentions to preform), was obviously in the wrong and failed to argue a case against Babs, who was a proper guardian.

Babs, who was not an incredibly powerful witch when compared to someone of Harry or Dumbledore's capabilities, had dedicated her thoughts and intentions to understanding magic all around her her entire life. She was constantly developing her sensitivity to magic, fine tuning the nuances involved with reading the signs and sparking the connections, was fluent in efficiency. She had publicly announced to the American government that something was afoul in the treatment of a magical phenomenon and Britain wasn't protecting him. The ICW understood that and agreed with her point, making something look a bit wrong with Dumbledore's intentions at the time with an incredible magical little boy. And now, slowly, the world was starting to learn about the story of Harry Potter and Barbara Smith. The Boy-Who-Lived and the Witch-Who-Saved-Him.

It made both of them smile when they heard it retold, as sour as the beginning had been. But Dumbledore- Dumbledore never heard that story positively. It existed to shame him and he accepted that. It was unfortunate that they would never understand the weight he bore from the secrets he held, but such was the phenomenal weight of self-importance. And Dumbledore was unconscious of the suffocation he was experiencing.

"Hello, Barbara Smith, I presume?" When Babs just continued looking at Dumbledore through the screen door in a very typical American Southern way, his smile fell a bit. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. I was hoping to speak with you this morning? And Harry?"

"Concerning?" she asked him, her accent very thick, dripping with sugary sweetness. Harry thought he saw that Merlin-looking wizard's eye twitch. He knew better than to let out a snicker in that moment, but he almost failed catching his response.

"The matters of which I refer aren't strictly pertaining to his attendance at Hogwarts but are of a more private matter. Perhaps you wouldn't wish to speak of them so freely?"

"Pardon me, Headmaster, but I think y'all would find a most beautiful arrangement of privacy magics scattered about the property. I mean, how many times did those wizards come through for all those years, and never did anyone notice us out here in our humble home." She smiled sweetly, displaying zero trace of bad intention or the disgust she felt at the way Dumbledore had treated a baby. "I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me, but we take extreme precautions here. In fact, we're going to have to recast the fidelious charm after Harry accepts his offer to Hogwarts on this specific day of his life. You understand, sir."

He blinked. That was blunt and people didn't usually throw hammers at him in such a direct way anymore. Such disrespect was frowned upon in Britain. He breathed deeply, only the traces of a smile left on his face. "Yes, yes of course. Very well, I wanted to apologize to Harry, personally." He looked at Harry. "Harry Potter," he greeted. A sad smile came on his face.

Harry knew that the old wizard couldn't read his mind through the screen on the front porch, it was one of the precautions they had taken in the house. Even still, he felt himself unconsciously clenching, as if he knew Dumbledore was still trying to peek into his brain, despite the magical screen. "I was so sorry to hear that you were being treated improperly by your family. I had no intention of you suffering further after the death of your parents and the end of the war. I hope you can forgive me and understand I was just trying to keep you safe with the blood wards I knew of with the only people I thought I could trust with you."

Harry breathed in deeply. He didn't like thinking of the Dursleys. That was a very dark part of his life, and he had such a beautiful life after that. Babs made sure of that. His hand squeezed hers and he felt the lump in his throat settle when she squeezed his back. Dumbledore might be remorseful, but that doesn't change what he's capable of doing to Harry and how he sees him. And he'll never see Harry as anything more than a future martyr of a cause. Harry felt bigger than that, and Babs helped him. Not Dumbledore.

"But I want you to know, I do care about you. And in the future, there might be cause for concern for your safety." He put his hand up in a placating manner, stopping Babs from commenting. Her eyebrows rose in offense while her head lowered in anger. "I mean no offense," Dumbledore placated. "I only mean to suggest that Britain is going through a period of change and there is reason to believe that not all is settled in the magical world where Voldemort is concerned."

"I'll save you the embarrassment of realizing you're late to the party, Headmaster," Babs replied, a hard look in her eye. "We've listened to the prophecy in the Ministry. We've known about it since the appeal in the ICW all those years ago. My team of lawyers and investigators searched everything they could in the Ministry of Magic, including the Department of Mysteries. Once we knew about the prophecy and saw that it was made to you, and given your emotional response to everything related to Harry, we decided it would be beneficial to know what you thought was so important about him." She smiled. "And now we do. So, thank you ever so much for stopping by, Headmaster, but I think you'll find that we've just about run out of time here today."

On cue, Harry looped the time turner around Babs' wrist and pulled them into the past two hours. They snuck out back to the tree house tea garden they had, in their magically expanded back yard that was slowly beginning to look more and more like a magical forest than anything else (causing Babs to continuously magically sneak into muggle documents and change the local maps and deeds of her uncles properties, using the goblins help of course, and magical runes spread out along the trees that were slowly being planted in the expansive plot of land. All-in-all it was a terrific project that was increasing the magical presence in the area without being able to be traced by gps or ever being noticed by muggle neighbors. It was safe, and like a magical safe zone for wizards, something terribly lacking in magical Britain.), and watched until there was a lumos shining from Babs' visible back. Babs, who was ready for her sign, began casting the fidelious charm and grinned in satisfaction when she saw Dumbledore's mouth hanging open in front of the door, slowly stepping back from the house until he was standing under a tree and looking agape at the place that had, to him, disappeared. Hopping on their brooms, Babs disillusioned them and they quickly flew through the large open windows on the balcony to the upstairs study. They high fived each other, watching as Dumbledore struggled, walking further and further from the home and failing to get closer, until he was pacing back and forth in front of where the property had been, scribbling furiously on a note.

"He's going to give us problems," Babs sighed.

Harry nodded. "He feels annoying."

"I was thinking, kiddo," Babs said, Dumbledore having disapparated away a moment ago. "How would you like to give living on a boat a second go?"

Harry grinned and jumped up. He might be an old soul, but Babs thought he was afflicted with lifelong childish excitement like she was. "Um, Yes!" he exclaimed, grinning. He shifted left, then shifted right, then looked at her with wide eyes. "I have to pack! It'll only take a moment, my room wasn't that messy-" he said, tripping over his feet before changing into a small raven and flying in a panic out the open doors and into his own bedroom.

Babs laughed. "Always an adventure," she said fondly, before her happy look faded and a grim frown marred her features. Her eyes narrowed when she looked at the place Dumbledore had been. It would be much harder to keep Harry's life so bright in this coming darkness. The fire in her burned harder. She would be damned if a little trouble was going to stop her from living.

"ARE YOU ALREADY READY?!" Harry's voice desperately called to her.

She laughed. "Of course," she said, feeling very tired from that fidelious charm. "Benny," a handsome house elf popped into view. She handed him the paper that stated: "Harry Potter and Barbara Smith live at 13 Private Drive. The Magical Gardens of Surrey are located in Surrey, Little Whinging, behind the properties of Private Drive." Benny read it quickly and looked back at her. "I apologize for any confusion that might have caused, Benny," she said to him.

Benny had a look of relief on his face. "That's okay Miss. Can Benny be letting the other elves know?"

Babs smiled, nodding and handing him the piece of paper with the secret. "Benny, I would like for you to share this secret with the Potter and Smith elves in our family. Also please share it with any and all of the campers harboring in the forest. I believe they should be first. Only share the secret of the forest with them," she added, handing him a second paper, pointing at it. "That one is for the magicals in the forest. The other is for family only." Benny saluted, their agreed upon response instead of bowing. Babs made her own traditions.

Harry raced to her, a duffle bag slung over his back, three backpacks and all types of contraptions and gadgets strapped to him. He grinned, panting. "Ready."

She laughed, ruffling his hair before looking around. "Popsy," she called. A young house elf appeared excitedly, standing tall. She clicked two glittering ruby red shoes together at the heel twice. "Popsy, prepare the Viking Hideout. We'll be spending the remainder of the days until Hogwarts at sea."

"Right away, Miss," she agreed excitedly.

"Harry," she asked, turning and facing him fully.

He was finally starting to get taller and his head was near her chin now. He grinned up at her. Sparkling green eyes met the dark reddish brown eyes of Babs. "I'm pretty tired from that trick we pulled on Dumbledore. I'm not too sure I'm up for doing the initial inspection and check of the boat before we head to sea. Do you think you could manage with Peggy while I take a quick nap?"

Harry knew the checklist in and out. He would love to help Peggy prepare to take off so Babs could sleep. Maybe he'd work on his knots until she was done napping, she did look awfully tired, after all. And he'd never set sail without standing right there with her before, and there wasn't really pressure to now. "Sounds good, Babs. Ready to slide?"

They grasped each other on the inside of their forearm, something that felt just right for the method of traveling Harry naturally employed. "Slide away," she agreed.

And without a second glance, the two were off.

A/N: See author bio for updated A/N's from here on out.


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